


Charioteer

by confidencealive (dazzler)



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Hair Washing, Kissing, M/M, Secret Samol, Winter in Hieron Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzler/pseuds/confidencealive
Summary: A stop on the road to the City of First Light.





	Charioteer

**Author's Note:**

> happy secret samol rho!!! i loved your prompt this was so much fun to work on ;-; 
> 
> this takes place post-WiH, after hadrian is out of swordtown.

“Are you okay?” 

Ephrim knocked the offered hand aside and staggered to his feet. 

“You probably would have beat me if you were using your fire swords,” Hadrian said, like that was supposed to comfort him. 

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Ephrim said through gritted teeth. He reached down to scrape the mud off his knees. “But that’s not the point of this, is it.” 

“Do you really think not using your powers is the best way to go?”

Ephrim held his arm without thinking. He kept it wrapped in bandages, the damage from the Heat and the Dark seeping in at the edges like ink through paper.

“I don’t regret what I did. But I still feel like his when I summon fire, and I’m done being used. I’m done being a tool.”

Night was beginning to fall in the woods, and Ephrim could make out Hadrian peering at him through the shadows, like he was trying to determine if he was hurt at all. Ephrim couldn’t help but feel ashamed. But why should he have learned earlier? The fire was never so unwieldy in his hands. It listened to him.  _ He  _ listened--

“Prince…”

“Don’t call me that.”

He was being an asshole, he knew. Hadrian was the one who agreed to teach him, when Ephrim asked late one night. Hadrian’s eyes had shone in the darkness and he’d agreed, and he hadn’t told anyone yet, either, instead spending hours every night after they’d made camp sparring with Ephrim and correcting his stance. Hadrian still beat him every time, and he was always infuriatingly apologetic about it. 

“You’re getting better,” Hadrian said. “A little guy like you, you’re going to be running circles around me in no time.”

Ephrim grunted, picking up his fallen sword and wiping the blade on the grass. “Sure.” 

“We should get back to the inn,” Hadrian said. “The others might be wondering where we are.” 

Somehow, Ephrim was doubtful of that. 

The two of them walked in silence, a grey mist rolling around their knees. With the sun’s return, the snow became rain, and Ephrim had spent the last few weeks of travel soaked through his furs and miserable. If it bothered Hadrian, he didn’t mention it, enduring in silence like always. As for Lem… well, Ephrim hadn’t heard him complaining since they picked up his boyfriend. He and Emmanuel were glued together, sharing glances and whispers and generally being insufferable. 

The inn where they’d stopped for the night was a sturdy little stone building that looked like it could survive another Erasure. It was run by a stocky elf man who seemed a little too friendly, perhaps because he was bored and didn’t have many visitors. Ephrim marched right past the counter and up the stairs, but the innkeeper managed to catch Hadrian’s eye, and that was enough to trap him.

“A quick question? Well, no, I’m not exactly in a hurry--”

“By His anvil,” Ephrim huffed under his breath. Hadrian was such a pushover. Counting him as a loss for the evening, Ephrim made his way down the hall to the room they were sharing: a small, sparsely furnished affair, but dry at the least. 

He slammed the door behind him and got to work heating water for a bath over the fireplace. He told himself it was a relief to be alone for a bit. He didn’t like watching Hadrian go through his prayers every night. 

When the tub was a little over half full, he stripped out of his clothes and climbed in, settling down with a sigh and breathing in the steam. Without the use of his powers, it had been ages since he’d had a hot bath, and the water felt amazing on his aching limbs. 

Ephrim recognized the clank of Hadrian’s armor long before his firm knock sounded at the door.

“Come in.”

“Oh, you’re…” Hadrian trailed off. He shut the door behind him and looked pointedly at the wall just past Ephrim’s shoulder. It wasn’t as noticeable when they were out in the woods, how big Hadrian was, his sheer bulk in the paladin armor. The water was still warm, but Ephrim felt a shiver go through him.

“Yes?”

“You’re already.” Hadrian gestured, the color darkening in his cheeks. 

“Did you need something?” Ephrim rapped his fingers on the edge of the tub. 

“I could wash your hair,” Hadrian said, then snapped his mouth shut like he didn’t mean it. Ephrim laughed. 

“Go ahead.” 

Hadrian removed his gauntlets, set them aside, and took a step forward, uncertainty written all over his face. It was cute. Ephrim almost told him so. 

He’d let his hair grow out, figured he doesn’t have to worry as much about setting it on fire now that, well. It looked damn good on him, honestly, falling over his shoulders all dark and shiny, and Hadrian ran his fingers through it with the kind of reverence Ephrim once thought he was owed. 

“This place isn’t too bad, but I think it’ll be nicer once we get to the city,” said Hadrian. “I’m still not sure how we’re going to get across the sea. Guess that’s what Lem is here for.”

Ephrim had a feeling that Lem, like himself and Hadrian, had some agenda that had nothing to do with their mission from Uklan to retrieve some artifact or another that had a chance of stopping the Heat and the Dark. But instead of saying so, he merely sighed and tipped his head back for Hadrian to wet his hair. 

“Samothes didn’t know what I meant at first,” said Hadrian, “when I called it the City of First Light. I guess Samot changed it after. Samothes just laughed about it.” 

“Hmm.”

“He’s nothing like his son, you know,” Hadrian said, and although Ephrim knew it was probably why Hadrian offered to do this, he could only feel a faint flicker of irritation, the way Hadrian’s sword-callused fingers were working down his neck. “When I met him, he was all light and love, for his people, for… for Samot.” 

Hadrian combed through Ephrim’s hair and kneaded at his scalp, thumbs digging into the base of his skull. Ephrim closed his eyes, let out a long exhale. Hadrian was surprisingly good at this. 

“Are your shoulders stiff?” Hadrian started to massage them without waiting for an answer. “He told me I should try to help you, if I can. If you’d let me.”

The fire under his skin crackled and jumped to meet Hadrian’s hands like they were kindling. 

“Then stop talking,” Ephrim said, and yanked Hadrian down into a kiss. Hadrian practically collapsed against him, arms sliding around his shoulders, mouth soft and yielding under his. The stubble of a few days travelling scraped his jaw.

“Was that good?” Hadrian asked, pulling back just enough that his breath still ghosted over Ephrim’s lips. Ephrim answered him with a tiny nod. Eventually, his heartbeat returned to a steady pace, but the fire did not settle down, licking at his rib cage, sparking in the tips of his fingers. 

“We should rest,” he said, his voice too loud in his own ears. “Long day tomorrow.” 

Ephrim stepped out of the tub, dried himself off, and put on his robe. His lips were still tingling as he crawled into bed. After removing his armor, Hadrian joined him, his prayers perhaps forgotten or forgone for the night. 

They lay side by side for a long time before Ephrim spoke into the darkness, not even sure whether Hadrian was awake or not. 

“How do we know that the City of First Light is still there? That it hasn’t been swallowed up?”

“I still see it,” said Hadrian, his voice a low, drowsy mumble. “I visit in my dreams.”

“Who?” Ephrim asked, but Hadrian had gone quiet, and a moment later, Ephrim heard him snoring softly. 

When Hadrian slept, he tended to curl up on himself. Maybe he was cold. Ephrim moved a little closer beneath the blanket, letting the heat inside him warm them both, just this once. 


End file.
